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DB 937 
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1852 
Copy 1 



THE 



FUTURE OF NATIONS: 



IN WHAT CONSISTS ITS SECURITY. 



DELIVERED IN THE BROADWAY TABERNACLE, NEW YORK, ON 
MONDAY EVENING, JUNE 21, 1852. 



#•* 



BY irO^-IS KOSSUTH 

^VERXOR OF HUNGARY. 



anebfseti anlr ©orrecteU hv tfje ^utjor. 

NEW YORK: 
FOWLERS^ AND WELLS, PUBLISHERS, 

CLINTON HALL, 131 NASSAU STREET. 
J, 142 Wasliingtoti St.] [London, No. 142 Strand. 



«, 142 Wasliingtoti S 



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The following correspondence is a sufficient preface ; we there- 
fore present it without further comment : 

To Governor Kossuth : Sii' — We are aware that your aged mother, your 
sisters, and their children, driven forth from their hearthstone, are coming to 
the New World to seek protection beyond the blighting shadow of despotism. 
We know that despotism, cowardly as cruel, fears the spell of the name you 
have illustrated, and dares not, even though it be borne by defenseless. women, 
permit its existence on the Eastern Continent. 

We know, too, sir, that your filial and fraternal solicitude must be paini'ully 
excited by the arrival of your family on a foreign soil, without the means of 
independent existence, and we have heard that in this mournful exigency, you 
have expressed a wish to deliver a Lecture for the purpose of obtaining the 
means necessary to secure to your exiled family an establishment by which 
they may earn an humble but independent livelihood. 

We hail with pleasure in this project, your acceptance of the truth, that labor 
is the basis of personal dignity as well as of our republican institutions. 

W^e are told that the obstacle to your delivering this Lecture is some uncer- 
tainty in your own mind, whether it will meet with cordial sympathy. 

We therefore, sir, beg leave to express our conviction that, as American wo- 
men, it is our duty as well as our happiness, to come forward, without drop- 
ping the modest vail that befits our sex, to receive our exiled and afilicted sisters 
as a sacred deposite of your dearest treasures, till it shall please God to restore 
them to you and to freed Hungary. 

And further, sir, we take the liberty to express to you our belief that what- 
ever diff"erences may exist among our citizens as to our national duty and pol- 
icy in relation to your country, there is not a mother's or sister's heart in the 
land, a son's or brother's, that does not answer to the atfecting call from the 
wrongs of your family — and to say, that as the citizens of New York had the 
honor of the first public demonstration of welcome, and sympathy with your 
patriotism, they claim to consecrate their farewell with as generous and fitting 
an expression of their sympathy with your domestic virtues. 

In conclusion, permit us to say that the mode by which yuu propose to ex- 
press your filial sentiments is particularly acceptable to us, as it will gratify our 
earnest desire to hear your voice once more ; and to hear it in a cause common 
to all humanity. 






IV 



PREFACE. 



And that wc are nvidy to cuncur with you in such arrangements as shall se- 
cure the most substaniiai roturii to your et^'orts. Respectfully yours, 



Mrs. A. C. KiNGSLAND, 

Mrs. Stephen H. Tyng, 
Mrs. T. S. Van Rensselaer, 
Mrs. Thomas Doremus, 
Madame O'Sullivan, 
Miss C. M. Sedgwick, 
Mrs. Henkv Grinnell, 
Mrs. Wm. Kikkland, 
Madame Charles Canda, 
Mrs. John Bigelow, 
Miss A. Rogers, 
Mrs. John O'Sullivan, 
Mrs. Ellery Sedgwick, 
Mrs. Frank Marbuky, 
Mrs. Dr. Skinner, 
Miss J. Sands, 



Mrs. Morris Earle, 

Miss Woods, 

Mrs. Henry W. Bellows, 

Mrs. Vanden Heuvel, 

Miss Anna Curtis, 

Mrs. James Gibbons, 

Mrs. John Sutphen, 

Mrs. B. D. Rowland, 

Mrs. Oscar Coles, 

Mrs. B. W. Mitchell, 

Mrs. A. B. DuRAND, 

Mrs. Woodman, 

Mrs. A. H. Fitch, 

Miss Durand, 

Mrs. Comfort Sands, 



Mrs. Cronkhite, 
Mrs. Parmly, and others. 

New York, Jane 12, 1852. 
Governor .Louis Kossuth : Dear sir — Allow us to congratulate you on the 
regained liberty of your mother and sisters. I'hat those so dear to you should 
have suftered so many hardships in consequence of your devotion to constitu- 
tional rights, must gain for them a sympathy as wide as that which is felt for 
yourself. Their dangerous relationship to you is their honor and their title to 
our particular regard In this view their expected arrival in this city inter- 
ests us, and we believe that we but express the feehngs of our fellow-citizens 
in addressing you in the relation you will soon be called on to take towai'd 
them. 

We are aware that these ladies and their families on their first arrival will 
have no one but yourself to whom to look for support, and that you have no 
pecuniary aid to give them. Your poverty is one of your claims to honor. 
You will wish then to do something toward helping them. It has occurred to 
us that if you would atibi-d our fellow-citizens an opportunity of meeting you 
again and hearing your views upon any subject, they would gladly embrace it 
as a means of helping you in the performance of your duties as a son and a 
brother. If you undertake any thing of the kind we shall be happy to aid you 
in carrying it out. Yours, respectfully 

Wm. C. Bryant, Joseph N. Balestier, 

Henry J. Raymond, Henry W. Bellows, 

S. Draper, Wm. E. Sedgwick, 

S. Jones, S. P. Parker, 

Horace Greeley, Stephen H. Tyng, 

George Bancroft, Wm. C, Russel, 

John Bigelow, Samuel Osgood, 

Parke Godwin, George B. Cheevek, 

E. H. Chapin. 



c 






r K E FACE. V 

GOV. KOSSUTH'ri REPLY. 

Ikving House, June 16, 1852. 

Ladies And Gentlemen — With deep emotion I thank you lor the generous 
interest you are pleased to tiike in a cause so sacred to my affections, next to 
my country dearest to my heart. 

Gratifying though it be, to know my persecuted sisters, liberated and reunited 
to my aged parent, beyond the reach of my country's murderers — still it is a 
hard destiny, full of nameless woes, to be driven from the native soil — an old 
mother, tried by more severe affliction than any mourning parent on earth ; 
sisters sick and worn out by the sufferings of an arbitrary prison, inflicted on 
them solely because I am their brother ; and helpless children, two of them 
fatherless orphans, all cast among foreigners, homeless and poor. 

Yet I thank God that His counsel has destined us to suffer for our fatherland. 

But my devotion to my country's rights being the cause of the shattered hap- 
piness of my family, it is a deep anxiety added to the cares of my public life, that 
I have not the means to support the forlorn exiles, so near to my heart. 

I am poor, and proud of being so. 

My life and every one of its moments belong to my country, and the mate- 
rial aid which I have been able to collect, and may yet receive for my country's 
cause, shall not be diverted from its sacred aim, and cannot be employed to al. 
leviate the misfortunes of my family. 

I advised my dear relatives to seek your free shores, not only because Amer- 
ica is an asylum to the oppressed, but also because a wider field is here open to 
labor than anywhere else in the world, and labor is honored here. Here, there- 
fore, I thought they may by honest exertion eain an humble livelihood, and 
enjoy the consolation of an independence, founded by their own activity, until, 
with the aid of God, I may restore them to our beloved native land. 

My earnest desire was, therefore, to secure the means of their first establish- 
ment. I thought of a lecture for their benefit, but I hesitated, conscious of in- 
ability, overwhelmed as I am with toils and cai'es, to rouse the interest of the 
public, so much the more as I felt not entitled to claim public attention for the 
distress of my family, at the time when millions are oppressed, and bleeding 
nations claim the sympathy of America. 

You, ladies and gentlemen, prompted by the noble impulses of your gener- 
osity, were pleased to encourage me, offering your aid, that 1 may attain the 
desired end. 

I therefore warmly thank you for the comfort of your encouragement. I 
accept with gratitude your offered assistance, ready to do according to your 
friendly adviue. I feel happy to leave every further arrangement with you, 
and trust that the warm hearts of New York will answer your appeal, and will 
not refuse a ray of that sympathy to filial and brotherly solicitude, which they 
have offered to the exertions of the patriot. 

L. KOSSDTH. 



ntrnhirtinn. 



We copy the following from tlie l!^ew York 
Tribune — the Lecture itself having since been re- 
vised and corrected by the author expressly for this 
edition. 

Never was a more crowded or brilliant audience assembled in tlie 
Tabernacle than that which gathered on Monday night, June 21, to 
listen to the parting discourse of the illustrious Hungarian. The 
occasion was one of the deepest interest. The approaching arrival 
of Kossuth's " aged mother and homeless sisters," the exiled vic- 
tims of kindred with the noble champion of his country's rights, 
has called forth a profound sympathy even in many hearts which 
have taken little interest in the impassioned appeals of the orator 
for American aid to Hungary. The story of private griefs has af- 
fected them more powerfully than that of national wrongs. Not a 
few also who have before had no opportunity of listening to the 
magic eloquence of Kossuth, could not permit the last occasion to 
pass without hearing the tones of that persuasive voice which has 
touched such a deep chord of feeling wherever it has been uttered. 
The audience was not only immense in numbers, but imposing by 
the elements of which it was composed. It represented all classes 
of New York society. Xlie aged were there, who seldom appear in 
public places. A large proportion of ladies showed their devotion 
to the cause, by appearing in the Tabernacle, in spite of the ci'ush 
and the severe heat. The well-known faces of a host of our most 
respectable citizens, of every profession, were seen in the vain 
pursuit of a seat. A finer turn-out of the young men of New 
York we have never witnessed on any public occasion ; while nu- 
merous strangers, many just arrived in the city, and wearing their 
travel-stained dress, served to complete the vast assemblage. 

Long before eight o'clock, the hour announced for the meeting, 



I N T 11 O I) U C T I O N . Vll 

every scat was occupied. The aisles were lined with extra benches, 
accommodating a tlirong of ladies, but great numbers were obliged 
to stand during the whole evening. The entrance of Kossuth, who 
came upon the stage accompanied by His Honor Chief Justice 
Jones, David D. Field, Rev. Mr. Osgood, and others, was welcomed 
with repeated and enthusiastic cheers by the deeply excited au- 
dience. He was dressed in a plain suit of black, with white gloves. 
He appeared in better health than when he was in New York be- 
fore. On his being introduced to the assembly, by William C. 
Russel, Esq., the cheers were reiterated, and it was not until after 
some time that silence was so far restored as to enable him to be- 
gin his address. Of the masterly vigor and melting pathos of this 
production, we need not speak. Our readers cannot fail to appre- 
ciate its noble eloquence. But they can form no idea of the mag- 
netic unction, the solemn earnestness, and the felicitous grace, 
with which the different portions of the discourse were delivered, 
according to the dominant tone of feeling with which the speaker 
was inspired. A large part of it, as will be seen, Avas of a highly 
religious character, expressive of the sublime ideal of Christianity 
cherished by Kossuth, and of the profound grief with which he 
contemplates the defeat of its practical application to social and 
political affairs. His remarks on this topic evidently made a deep 
impression on the audience. At the close of the discourse, nine 
hearty cheers were given for Kossuth and the cause of Hungary, 
when the audience slowly broke up, as if reluctant to leave the 
charmed presence. 



deferring to tlils most remarkable Lectm'e, the 
New York Evening Post, on the day after deliveiy, 
had the following : 

Kossuth's Lecture. — A more crowded or a more brilliant au- 
dience was never gathered in the Tabernacle than that Avhich assem- 
bled there last evening. It was a warm night, in fact, a sweltering 
night, but long before eight o'clock every seat in the building was 
taken, and the aisles and galleries filled. At the appointed time 
Kossuth came upon the stage accompanied by Chief Justice Jones, 
D. D. Field, Dr. Osgood, and others, and the moment he made his 



Till INTRODUCTION". 

appearance, was greeted with a deafening explosion of shouts. 
Even the ladies, of whom there was a large and sparkling throng, 
joined in the applause and helped to swell the tumult. 

Kossuth was then introduced by Mr. Wm. C. Russel, and was 
again received with the most tumultuous plaudits. His speech, 
about an hour and a half in length, was a noble specimen of his 
eloquence — deliberate, earnest, graceful, and various — now thrill- 
ing the hearer with its gentle pathos, and anon stirring them with 
its manly appeals to high and generous feelings like the sound of a 
trumpet. Its principal topic was the future of the nations, which 
future, he argued, can only be secured by the rigid application of 
Christian principles to social and political life. This he illustrated 
with that vast learning of which he is master, making history lu- 
minous with thought, and pushing forward our aspirations to a 
better time to come. 

Kossuth appears nowhere greater than in this able discourse. 
His comprehensive politics, his beautiful sympathies, his power 
over language, his poetic imagination, his magnetic and melting 
earnestness of purpose, are blended with that depth of religious 
feeling which gives to his character as a patri-ot the sanctity and 
unction of the prophet. His moral and intellectual faculties are 
shown in harmony, working out the great and beneficent purposes 
of his commanding will. 

It would be difficult to select any portion of this speech as bet- 
ter than another, and we therefore commend the whole to the 
reader's careful attention. 



Enasntlj's future. 



Ladies and Gentlemen, 

During six montlis I appeared many times before 
tlie tribunal of public opinion in America. This 
evening I appear before you in tlie capacity of a 
working man. My aged mother, tried by more 
sujfferings than any living being on earth, and my 
three sisters, one of them a widow with two father- 
less orphans, together a homeless family of fourteen 
unfortunate souls, have been driven by the Austrian 
tyrant from their home, that Golgotha of murdered 
right, that land of the oppressed, but also of unde- 
sponding braves, and the land of approaching re- 
venge. When Russian violence, aided by domestic 
treason, succeeded to accomplish what Austrian 
perjury could not achieve, and I with bleeding 
heart went into exile, my mother and all my sisters 
were imprisoned by Austria ; but it having been 
my constant maxim not to allow to whatever mem- 
ber of my family any influence in public affairs, 



6 THE FUTUKE OF NATIONS. 

except tliat I intrusted to tlie charitable superin- 
tending of my youngest sister tlie hospitals of the 
wounded heroes, as also to my wife the cares of 
providing for the furniture of these hospitals, not 
even the foulest intrigues could contrive any pre- 
text for the continuation of their imprisonment. 
And thus, when diplomacy succeeded to fetter my 
patriotic activity by the internation to far Asia, 
after some months of unjust imprisonment, my 
mother and sisters and their family have been re- 
leased ; and though surrounded by thousand spies, 
tortured by continual interference with their private 
life, and harassed by insulting police measures, they 
had at least the consolation to breathe the native 
air, to see their tears falling upon native soil, and 
to rejoice at the majestic spirit of our people, which 
no adversities could bend and no tyranny could break. 
But at last by the humanity of the Sultan, backed 
by American generosity, seconded by England, I 
once more was restored to personal freedom, and 
by freedom to activity. Having succeeded to escape 
the different snares and traps which I unexpectedly 
met, I considered it my duty publicly to declare 
that the war between Austrian tyranny and the 
freedom of Hungary is not ended yet, and swore 
eternal resistance to the oppressors of my country, 
and declared that, faithful to the oath sworn solemnly 
to my people, I will devote my life to the liberation 
of my fatherland. Scarcely reached the tidings of 
this my after resolution the bloody Court of Yienna, 



THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 7 

tlian two of my sisters were again imprisoned ; my 
poor old motlier escaping tlie same cruelty only on 
account that bristling bayonets of tlie bloodhounds 
of despotism, breaking in the dead of night upon 
the tranquil house, and the persecution of my sisters, 
hurried away out of Hungary to the prisons of Yi- 
enna, threw her in a half-dying condition upon a 
sick bed. Again no charge could ba brought against 
the poor prisoners, because, kmowing them in the 
tiger's den, and surrounded by '^pies, I not only did 
not communicate any thing to them about my foreign 
preparations and my dispositions at home, but have 
expressly forbidden them to mix in any way with 
the doings of patriotism. 

But tyrants are suspicious. You know the tale 
about Marcius. He dreamt that he cut the throat 
of Dionysius the tyrant, and Dionysius condemned 
him to death, saying that he w^ould not have dreamt 
such things in the night if he had not thought of it 
by day. Thus the Austrian tyrant imprisoned my 
sisters, because he suspected that, being my sisters, 
they must be initiated in my plans. At last, after 
five months of imprisonment, they were released, 
but u23on the condition that they, as well as my 
mother and all my famil}^, shall leave om* native 
land. Tlius they became exiles, homeless, helj)less, 
poor. I advised them to come to your free country 
— the asylum of the oppressed, where labor is hon- 
ored, and where they must try to live by their honest 
work. 



8 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

They followed my advice, and are on tlieir way ; 
but my poor aged mother and my youngest sister, 
the widow with the two orphans, being stopped by 
dangerous sickness at Brussels, another sister stopped 
with them to nurse them. The rest of the family 
is already on the way — ^in a sailing ship of course, 
I believe, and not in a steamer. "We are poor. My 
mother and sisters will follow so soon as their health 
permits. 

I felt the duty to help them in their first estab- 
lishment here. For this I had to work, having no 
means of my own. 

Some generous friends advised me to try a lecture 
for this purpose, and I did it. I will not act the 
part of crying complainants about our misfortunes ; 
we will bear them. Let me at once go to my task. 



Tliere is a stirring vitality of busy life about this 
your city of 'New York, striking with astonishment 
the stranger's mind. How great is the progress of 
Humanity ! Its steps are counted by centuries, and 
yet while countless millions stand almost at the 
same point where they stood, and some even 
have declined since America first emerged out of 
an unexplored darkness, which had covered her 
for thousands of years, like the gem in the sea ; 
while it is but yesterday a few pilgrims landed on 
the wild coast of Plymouth, flying from causeless 
oppression, seeking but for a place of refuge and of 



THE FUTUliE OF NATIONS. 9 

restj and fois^a free spot in tlie wilderness to adore 
the Aliniglity in their own way; still in snch a 
brief time, shorter than the recorded genealogy of 
the noble horse of the wandering Arab ; yes, almost 
within the tnrn of the hand, ont of the unknown wil- 
derness a mighty empire arose, broad as an ocean, 
solid as a mountain-rock, and upon the scarcely 
rotted roots of the primitive forest, proud cities 
stand, teeming with boundless .life, growing like 
the prairie's grass in spring, advancing like the 
steam-engine, baffling time and distance like the 
telegraph, and spreading the pulsation of their life- 
tMe to the remotest parts of the world ; and in those 
cities and on that broad land a nation, free as the 
mountain air, independent as the soaring eagle, 
active as nature, and powerful as the giant strength 
of millions of freemen. 

How w^onderful ! What a present — and what a 
future yet ! 

Future? — then let me stop at this ixiysterious 
word — the veil of unrevealed- eternity ! 

The shadow of that dark word passed across my 
mind, and amid the bustle of this gigantic bee-hive, 
there I stood with meditation alone. 

And the spirit of the immovable Past rose before 
my eyes, unfolding the misty picture-rolls of van- 
ished greatness, and of the fragility of human things. 

And among their dissolving views, there I saw 
the scorched soil of Africa, and upon that soil 
Thebes with its hundred gates, more splendid than 



10 THE FUTUEE OF NATIONS. 

the most splendid of all tlie existing cities of tlie 
world ; Thebes, tlie pride of old Egypt, tlie first 
metropolis of arts and sciences, and the mysterious 
cradle of so many doctrines which still rule man- 
kind in different shapes, though it has long forgot- 
ten their source. There I saw Syria with its hun- 
dred cities, every city a nation, and every nation 
with an empire's might. Baalbec, with its gigantic 
temples, the very ruins of which baffle the imagi- 
nation of man, as they stand like mountains of 
carved rocks in the desert where for hundreds of 
miles not a stone is to be found, and no river flows, 
offering its tolerant back to carry a mountain's 
weight upon, and yet there they stand, those gigan- 
tic ruins ; and as we glance at them with astonish- 
ment, though we have mastered the mysterious 
elements of nature, and know the combination of 
levers, and how to catch the lightning, and to com- 
mand the power of steam and of compressed air, 
and how to write with the burning fluid out of 
which the thunderbolt is forged, and how to drive 
the current of streams up the. mountain's top, and 
how to make the air shine in the night like the 
light of the sun, and how to dive to the bottom of 
the deep ocean, and how to rise up to the sky — ■ 
though Ave know all this, and many things else, still, 
looking at the temples of Baalbec, we cannot for- 
bear to ask what people of giants was that, which 
could do what neither the eflorts of our skill 
nor the ravaging hand of unrelenting time can 



THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 11 

undo, through thousands of years. And then I 
saw the dissolving picture of Nineveli, with its 
ramparts now covered with mountains of sand, 
where Layard is digging up colossal winged bulls, 
huge as a mountain, and yet carved with the nicety 
of a cameo ; and then Babylon, with its wonderful 
walls ; and Jerusalem, w4th its unequaled temple ; 
Tyrus, with its countless fleets; Arad, with its 
wharves; and Sidon, with its labyrinth of work- 
shops and factories ; and Ascalon, and Gaza, and 
Beyrout, and farther off Persepolis, with its world 
of palaces. 

All these passed before my eyes as they have 
been, and again they passed as they now are, with 
no trace of their ancient greatness, but here and 
there a ruin, and everywhere the desolation of tombs. 
With all their splendor, power, and might, they 
vanished like a bubble, or like the dream of a child, 
leaving but for a moment a drop of cold sweat upon 
the sleeper's brow, or a quivering smile upon his 
lips ; then, this w^iped away, dream, sweat, smile — 
all is nothingness. 

So the powerful cities of the ancient greatness of 
a giant age ; their very memory but a sad monu- 
ment of the fragility of human things. 

And yet, proud of the passing hour's bliss, men 
speak of the future, and believe themselves insured 
against its vicissitudes! 

And the spirit of history rolled on the misty 
shapes of the past before the eyes of my soul. Af- 



12 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

ter those cities of old came the nations of old. The 
Assyrians, the Chaldeans, the war-like Philistines, 
the commercial republics of Phoenicia and the Per- 
sians, ruling from the Indus to the Mediterranean, 
and Egypt becoming the center of the universe, 
after having been thousands of years ago the cradle 
of its civilization. 

Where is the power, the splendor, and the glory of 
all those mighty nations ? All has vanished with- 
out other trace than such as the foot of the wanderer 
leaves upon the dust. 

And still men speak of the future with proud se- 
curity ! 

And yet they know that Carthage is no more, 
though it ruled Spain, and ruled Africa beyond the 
pillars of Hercules down to Cerne, an immense terri- 
tory, blessed with all the blessings of nature, which 
Hannon filled with flourishing cities, of which now 
no trace remains. 

And men speak of the future, though they know 
that such things as heroic Greece once did exist, 
glorious in its very ruins, and a source of everlast- 
ing inspiration in its immortal memory. 

Men speak of the future, and still they can re- 
hearse the powerful colonies issued from Greece, 
and the empires their heroic sons have founded. 
And they can mark out with a finger on the map, 
the unparalleled conquests of Alexander ; how he 
crossed victoriously that desert whence Semiramis, 
out of a countless host, brought home but twenty 



THE FUTUIiE OF NATIONS. 13 

men ; and Cyrns, out of a still larger number, only 
seven men. But lie (Alexander) went on in triumph, 
and conquered Lidia up to tlie Ilydaspes as lie con- 
quered before Tyrus and Egypt, and secured with 
prudence what he had conquered with indomitable 
energy. 

And men S23eak of the future, though they know 
that such a thing did exist as Rome, the Mistress 
of the World — Rome rising from atomic srnallness 
to immortal greatness, and to a grandeur absorbing 
the world — Rome, now having all her citizens with- 
out, and now again having all the world within her 
walls ; and passing through all the vicissitudes of 
gigantic rise, wavering decline, and mournful fall. 
And men speak of the future still with these aw^ful 
monuments of fragility before their eyes ! 

But it is the sad fate of Humanity that, encom- 
passing its hopes, fears, contentment, and Avishes, 
within the narrow scope of momentary satisfaction, 
the great lesson of history is taught almost in 
vain. Whatever be its warnings, we rely on our 
good fortune ; and we are ingenious in finding out 
some soothing pretext to lull down the dreadful 
admonitions of history. Man, in his private ca- 
pacity, consoles the instinctive apprehension of his 
heart with the idea that his condition is different 
from what warningly strikes his mind. The patriot 
feels^ well, that not only the present, but also the 
future of his beloved country, has a claim to his 
cares ; but he lulls himself into carelessness by the 

2 



14 THE FTTUEE OF NATIONS. 

ingenious consolation that tlie condition of Ms 
conntry is different— that it is not obnoxious to 
those fanlts which made other countries decline and 
fall ; that the time is different ; the character and 
spirit of the nation are different, its power not so 
precarious, and its prosperity more solid ; and that, 
therefore, it will not share the fate of those which 
vanished like a dream. And the philanthropist, 
also, whose heart throbs for the lasting welfare of 
all humanity, cheers his mind with the idea that, 
after all, mankind at large is happier than it was 
of yore, and that this happiness insures the future 
ao^ainst the rev-erses of olden times. 

That fallacy, natural as it may be, is a curse 
which weighs heavily on us. Let ns see in what 
respect our age is different from those olden times. 
Is mankind more virtuous than it has been of yore? 
"Why, ill this enlightened age, are we not looking 
for virtuous inspirations to the god-like characters 
of these olden times? If we take virtue to be love 
of the laws, and of the Fatherland, dare we say that 
our age is more virtuous ? If that man is to be 
called virtuous who, in all his acts, is but animated 
by a regard to the common good, and who, in every 
case, feels ready to subordinate his own selfish in- 
terest to public exigencies — if that be virtue (as 
indeed it is), I may well" appeal to the conscience 
of mankind to give an impartial verdict upon the 
question, if our age be more virtuous than the age 
of Codrus or of Regulus, of Decius and of Scsevola. 



THE FUTUKE OF NATIONS. 15 

Look to the school of Zeiio, the stoics of immortal 
inemoiy ; and wlien you see them contemning alike 
the vanity of riches and the ambition of personal 
glory, im23enetrable to the considerations of pleas- 
ure and of pain, occupied only to promote public 
welfare and to fulfill .their duties toward the com- 
munity ; when you see them inspired in all their 
acts by the doctrine that, born in a society, it is 
tlieir duty to live for the benefit of society; and 
when you see them placing their own happiness 
only upon the happiness of their fellow-men — ^then 
say if our too selfish, too material age can stand a 
comparison with that olden period. When you re- 
member the politicians of ancient Greece, acknowl- 
edging no other basis for the" security of the com- 
monwealth than virtue, and see the political system 
of our days turning only upon manufactures," com- 
merce, and finances, will you say that our age is 
more virtuous ? When, looking to your own coun- 
try — the best and happiest, because the freest of all 
— you will not dissimulate in your OAvn mind what 
considerations influence the platforms of your polit- 
ical parties ; and then in contra-position will reflect 
upon those times when Timon of Athens, chosen to 
take part in his country's government, assembled 
his friends and rejiounced their friendship, in order 
that he might not be tempted by party considera- 
tions or by affections of amity, in his important 
duties toward the commonwealth. Tlien, having 
thus reflected, saj, "Take you our own age to be 



16 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

more virtuous, and therefore more insured against 
the reverses of fortune, than those older times ?" 

. But perhaps there is a greater amount of private 
happiness, and hj the broad diffusion of private 
welfare, the security of the commonwealth is more 
lasting and more sure ? 

Caraccioli, having been embassador in England, 
when returned to Italy, said, that "England is the 
most detestable country in the world, because there 
are to be found twenty different sorts of religion, 
but only two kinds of sauces with which to season 
meat." 

There is a point in that questionable jest. Ma- 
terialism ! curse of our age ! Who can seriously 
speak about the broad diffusion of haj)piness in a 
country where contentment is measured according 
to how' many kinds of sauces we can taste ? My 
people is by far not the most material. We are not 
much given to the cupidity of becoming rich. We 
know the word '^ enough." The simplicity of our 
manners makes us easily contented in our material 
relations ; we like rather to be free than to be rich; 
we look for an honorable j)rofit, that we may have 
upon what to live ; but we don't like to live for the 
sake of profit; augmentation of property and of 
wealth with us is not the aim of life — we prefer 
tranquil, independent mediocrity to the incessant 
excitement and incessant toil of cupidity and gain. 
SucKis the character of my nation ; and yet I have 
known a countryman of mine who blew out his 



THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 17 

bj'ains because he liad no means more to eat daily 
pates defoi gras and drink cliampagne. Well, that 
was no Ilnngarian character, hut, though somewhat 
eccentrically, he characterized the leading feature 
of our century. 

Indeed, are your richest money-kings happier 
than Fcibricius was, when he preferred his seven 
acres of land, worked by his own hands, to the 
treasures of an empire ? Are the ladies of to-day, 
adorned with all the gorgeous splendor of wealth, 
of jewels, and of art, happier than those ladies of 
ancient Rome have been, to whom it was forbidden 
to wear silk and jewelry, or drive in a carriage 
through the streets of Home ? Are the ladies of to- 
day happier in their splendid parlors, than the 
Portias and the Cornelias have been in the homely 
retirement of their modest nurseries? ^ay; all 
that boundless thirst of wealth, which is the ruling 
spirit of our age, and the moving power of enter- 
prising energy, all this hunting after treasures, 
and all its happiest results, have they made men 
nobler, better, and happier ? Have they improved 
their soul, or even their body and their health, at 
least so much that the richest of men could eat and 
digest two dinners instead of one ? Or has the in- 
satiable thirst of material gain originated a purer 
patriotism ? has it made mankind more devoted to 
their country, more ready to sacrifice for public 
interest ? If that were the case, then I would gladly 
confess the error of my doubts, and take the pre- 



IS THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

tended larger amount of happiness for a guarantee 
of the future of the commonwealth. • But, ladies 
and gentlemen ! a single word — the manner in 
which we use it, distorting its original meaning, 
often characterizes a whole century. You all know 
the word '' idiot f^ almost every living language has 
adopted it, and all languages attach to it fhe idea 
that an "idiot" is a poor, ignorant, useless wretch, 
nearly insane. "Well, "idiot" is a word of Greek 
extraction, and meant with the Greek a man who 
cared nothing for the public interest, but was all 
devoted to the selfish pursuit of private profit, what- 
ever might have been its results to the community. 
Oh ! what an immense, what a deplorable change 
must have occurred in the character of Humanity, 
till unconsciously we came to the point, that by 
what name the ancient Greeks would have styled 
those European money-kings, who, for a miserable 
profit, administer to the unrelenting despots their 
eternal loans, to oppress nations with, we now 
apply that very name to the wretched creatures in- 
capable to do any thing for themselves. We bear 
compassion for the idiots of to-day, but the modern 
editions of Greek idiotism, though loaded with the 
bloody scars of a hundred thousand orphans, and 
with the curse of millions, stand high in honor, and 
go on, proudly glorying*^ their criminal idiotism, 
heaping up the gold of the world. 

But I may be answered, after all, though our age 
be not so virtuous, and though the large accumula- 



THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 19 

tioii in wealth lias in reality not made mankind 
happier; still, it cannot be denied, yon are in a 
prosperons condition, and prosperity is a solid basis 
of yonr conntry's future. Industry, navigation, 
commerce, have §o much developed, they have 
formed so many ties by which every citizen is 
linked to his conntry's fate, that y^^nr own material 
interest is a security to your country's future. 

In loving your ow^n selves you love your country, 
and in loving your country you love your own 
selves. This community of public and private in- 
terest will make you avoid the stumbling-block 
over which others fell. Prosperity is, of course, a 
great benefit ; it is one of the aims of human so- 
ciety ; but when prosperity becomes too material, it 
does not always guarantee the future. Paradoxical 
as it may appear, too much prosperity is often 
dangerous, and some national misfortune is now 
and then a good preservative of prosperity. For 
great prosperity makes nations careless of their 
future ; seeing no immediate danger, they believe 
no danger possible ; and then when a danger comes, 
eitlier by sudden' chance or by the slow accumula- 
tion of noxious elements, then, frightened by the 
idea that in meeting the danger their private pros- 
perity might be injured or lost, selfishness often 
prevails over patriotism, and meii become ready to 
sulnnit to arrogant pretensions, and compromise 
with exigencies at the price of princij^les, and re- 
publics flatter despots, and freemen covet the friend- 



20 THE FUTURE OFNATIONS. 

sliip and incliilgence of tyrants, only that things 
may go on jnst as they go, though millions weep 
and nations groan ; but still, things should go on 
jnst as they go, because every change may claim a 
sacrifice, or aifect our thriving private interest. 
Such is often the effect of too great, of too secure 
prosperity. Therefore, prosperity alone affords yet 
no security. 

You remember the tale of Polycrates. He was 
the happiest of men ; good luck attended every one 
of his steps ; success crowned all he undertook, and 
a friend thus spoke to him : " Thou art too happy 
for thy happiness to last. Appease the anger of 
the Eumenides by a voluntary sacrifice, or deprive 
thyself of what thou most vainest among all that 
thou possessest." Polycrates obeyed, and drew 
from his finger a precious jewel, of immense value, 
dear to his heart, and threw it into the sea. Soon 
after a fish was brought to his house, and his cook 
found the precious ring in the belly of the fish ; but 
the friend who advised him hastened to flee from 
the house, and shook the dust of its, threshold from 
his shoes, because he feared a great mischief must 
fall upon that too prosperous house. There is a 
deep meaning in that tale of Polycrates. 

Machiavel says, that it is now and then necessary 
to recall the constituting essential principles to the 
memory of nations. And who is charged by Provi- 
dence with this task ? Misfortune ! It were the bat- 
tles of Cannae and of Tlirasymene which recalled 
\ 



T II E V U T U R I-: OF NATIONS. 21 

the Koniaus to tlic love of tlieir fatherlnnd ; nations 
had till now, about such things, no other teacher 
than misfortune. They should choose to have a 
less afflicting one. They can have it. To point 
this out will be tlTe final object of my remarks, but 
so much is certain, that j)rosperity alone is yet no 
security for the future, even of the happiest com- 
monwealth. Those ancient nations have been also 
prosperous. They were industrioiis, as your nation 
is ; their land has been covered with cities and vil- 
lages, well cultivated fields, blessed with the richest 
crops, and crowded with countless herds spread over 
immense territories, furrowed with artificial roads ; 
their flourishing cities swarmed with artists, and 
merchants, and workmen, and pilots, and sailors, 
like as l^ew York does. Their busy laborers built 
gigantic water-works, digged endless canals, and 
carried distant waters through the sands of the 
desert; their mighty, energetic spirit built large 
and secure harbors, dried the marshy lakes, cov- 
ered the sea with vessels, the land with living 
beings, and spread a creation of life and move- 
ment alono^ the earth. Their commerce was broad 
as the known world. Tyre exchanged its pur- 
ple for the silk of Serica ; Cashmere's soft shawls, 
to-day yet a luxury of the wealthiest, the dia- 
monds of Golconda, the gorgeous carpets of 
Lydia, the gold of Ophir and Saba, the aromatic 
spices an<l jewels of Ceylon, and the pearls and 
perfumes of Arabia, the myrrh, silver, gold dust, 



•^ 



22 T II E F U T U R E OF NATIONS. 

and ivory of Africa, as well as tlie amber of the 
Baltic and the tin of Thule, appeared alike in their 
commerce, raising them in turn to the dominion of 
the world, and undoing them by too careless pros- 
perity. The manner and the shape of one or the 
other art, of one or other industiy, has changed ; 
the steam-engine has replaced the rowing-bench, 
and cannon replaced the catapult ; but, as a whole, 
even your country, which you are proud to hear 
styled " the* living wonder of the world" — yes, even 
your country in the J^ew World, and England in 
the Old — England, that gigantic workshop of in- 
dustry, surrounded with a beautiful evergreen gar- 
den ; yes, all the dominions of the Anglo-Saxon 
race, can claim no higher praise of its prosperity, 
than when we say, that you have reproduced the 
griindeur of those ancient nations, and nearly equal 
their prosperity. And Avhat has become of them ? 
A sad skeleton. What remains of their riches, of 
their splendor, and of their vast dominions? An 
obscure recollection ; a vain memory. Thus fall 
empires ; thus vanish nations, which have no better 
guardians than their prosperity. But " we have," 
will you say, " we have a better guardian — our 
Ireedom, our republican institutions ; our confede- 
ration uniting so many glorious stars into one 
mighty galaxy — these are the ramparts of our 
present, these our future security." 

Well, it would ill become me to investigate if 
there be nothing '^ rotten in the state of Denmark," 



T II !•: F u '1' i; li 1-: ( > i-' nations. 23 

and certainly I am not tliu man wlio could feel in- 
clined to nndervaliie the divine power of liberty ; to 
nnderrate the value of your democratic institntions, 
and the vitality of your glorious Union. It is to them 
1 look in the solitary hours of meditation, and when, 
overwhelmed with the cares of the patriot, my soul 
is groaning under nameless w^oes, it is your free- 
dom's snnny light which dispels the gloomy dark- 
ness of despondency ; here is the sonrce whence 
the inspiration of hope is flowing to the mourning 
world, that down-trodden millions at the bottom of 
their desolation still retain a melancholy smile upon 
their lips, and still retain a voice in their bleeding 
chest, to thank the Almighty God that the golden 
thread of freedom is not yet lost on earth. Yes, 
ladies and gentlemen, all tins I feel^ and all this I 
know, reflecting upon your freedom, your institu- 
tions, and your Union ; but casting back my look 
into the mirror of the past, there I see upon mould- 
ering ground, written with warning letters, the 
dreadful truth, that all this has nothing: new ; all 
this has been ; and all this has never yet been 
])roved suflicient security. Freedom is the fliirest 
gift of Heaven ; but it is not the security of itself. 
Democracy is the embodinient of freedom, which 
in itself is but a principle. But what is the secu 
rity of democracy? And if you answer, "The 
Union is;" then I ask, " And M-here is the security 
of the Union V Xes, ladies and gentlemen, Free- 
dom is no new word. It is as old as the world. 



24 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

Despotism is new, but Freedom not. And yet it 
has never yet proved a charter to- the secmity of 
nations. Eepublic is no new word. It is as old as 
the word ''Society." Before Kome itself, repub- 
lics absorbed the world. There were in all Europe, 
Africa, and Asia Minor, but republics to be found, 
and many among them democratic. Men had to 
wander to far Persia if they Avould have desired to 
know what sort of thing a monarch is. And all 
they have perished ; the small ones by foreign pow- 
er, the large ones by domestic vice. And union, 
and confederacy, the association of societies^ — a con- 
federate re]3ublic of republics, is also no new in- 
vention. Greece has known it, and flourished by 
it for a while. Rome has known it ; by such asso- 
ciations she attacked the world. The world has 
known them; with them it defended itself against 
Rome, The so-called Barbarians of Europe, be- 
yond the Danube and the Rhine, have known it ; 
it was by a confederacy of union that they resisted 
the ambitious mistress of the world. Your own 
country, America, has known it ; the traditionary 
history of the Romans of the West, of those six 
Indian J^ations, bears the records of it, out of an 
older time than your ancestors settled in this land ; 
,^^tlie wise man of the Onondaga JSTation has exer- 
cised it long before your country's legislators built 
upon that basis your inde2)endent home. And still 
it proved in itself alone no security to all those na- 
tions who have known it before you. Your own 



T II 10 F U T U K J-: O F NATIONS. 25 

fiitliers liave seen the last of the Moliawks burying .. 
liis bloody tomahawk in the name-sake flood, an<l 
have listened to the majestic words of Logan, spoken 
with the dignity of an JEmilius, that there exists 
no living being on earth in the veins of whom one 
drop of the blood of his race did flow. Well, had 
history nothing else to teach ns, than that all M'hat 
the wisdom of men did conceive, and all that his 
energy has execnted through all the innnmerablc 
days of the past, and all that we take to be glorious 
in nations and happy to men, cannot so much do 
as to insure a future even to snch a flourishing 
commonwealth as yonrs ; then weaker hearts may 
Avell ask. What good is it to warn ns of a fatality 
which we cannot escape ; what good is it to hold 
np the mournful monuments of a national mortality 
to sadden our heart, if all that is luni^an must share 
that common doom? Let us do as we can, and 
so far as we can, and let the future bring what 
bring it may. But that would be the speech of 
one having no faith in the all-watching Eye, and 
regarding the eternal laws of the universe not as 
an emanation of a bountiful providence, but of a 
blind fatality, which plays at hazard with the des- 
tinies of men. I never will share such blasphemy. 
Misfortune came over me, and came over my house, 
ami came over my guiltless nation ; still I never 
have lost my trust hi the- Father of all. T have 
lived tlie days when the people of my o])pressed 
country went aloijg weeping over the immense niis- 

3 



26 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

fortune tliat they cannot pray, seeing tlie downfall 
of the most just cause and the outrageous triumph of 
the most criminal of all crimes on earth ; and they 
went along not able to pray, and w^eeping that they 
are not able to pray. I shuddered at the terrible 
tidings in the desolation of my exile ; but I could 
pray, and sent the consolation home, that I do not 
despair ; that I believe in God, and trust to His 
bountiful providence, and ask them who of them 
dares despair wdien I do not ? I was in exile, as I 
am now, but arrogant despots w^ere debating about 
my blood, my infant children in prison, my wife, 
the faithful companion of my sorrows and my cares, 
hunted like a noble deer, and my sisters in the 
tyrant's fangs, red with the blood of my nation, 
and the heart of my aged mother breaking, about 
the shattered fortunes of her house, and all of them 
at last homeless wanderers, cast to the winds, like 
the yellow leaves of a fallen tree ; and my father- 
land, my dear, beloved fatherland, half murdered, 
half in chains, and humanity nearly all oppressed, 
and those wdio are not yet oppressed looking with 
compassion at our sad fate, but taking it for wise 
policy not to help, and the sky of freedom, dark on 
our horizon, and darkening fast over all, and no- 
where a ray of hope ; a luster of consolation no- 
where ; and still I did not despair; and my faith 
to God, my trust to Providence has spread over my 
down-trodden land. 
I I therefore, wdio do not despair of my own coun- 



T II K V U T U R V: ( ) V N A T 1 ( ) N S . 27 

try's future, though it be overAvhehiied witli misfor- 
tunes, I certainly luxve an unwavering faith in the 
destinies of llunianity, and tliough tlie mournful 
example of so man}- falleri nations instructs us, that 
neither the diffusion of knowledge, nor the })rogress 
of industry, neither prosperity, nor power, nay, 
not even freedom itself, can secure a future to na- 
tions, still I say there is one thing which can secure 
it ; there is one law, the obedience to which would 
prove a rock upon which the freedom and happi- 
ness of nations may rest sure to the end of then- 
days. And that law, ladies and gentlemen, is tlie 
law^ proclaimed by our Saviour ; that rock is tlie 
imperverted religion of Christ. But while the con- 
solation of this sublime truth falls meekly upon my 
soul like as the moonlight falls upon the smooth sea, 
T humbly claim your forbearance, ladies and gen- 
tlemen; I claim it in the name of the Alnn'glity 
Lord, to hear from my lips a mournful truth. It 
may displease you ; it may offend ; but still ti-uth 
is truth. Offended vanity may blame me ; power 
may frown at me, and pride may call my boldness 
arrogant, but still truth is truth, and T, bold in my 
unpretending humility, will proclaim that truth ; I 
will proclaim it from land to land and from sea to 
sea ; I will proclaim it with the faith of the martyrs 
of old, till the seed of my word falls upon the con- 
sciences of men.'*^ Let come M'hat come may, I say 
with Luther: God help me, I cannot otherwise. 
Yes, ladies and gejitlemen, the law of our Saviour, 



28 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

the religion of Christ, can secnre a happy future to 
nations. But, alas ! there-is yet no Christian people 
on earth — not a single one among all. I have spoken 
the word. It is harsh, but true. I^early two thou- 
sand years have passed since Christ has proclaimed 
the eternal decree of God, to which the hapj)iness 
of mankind is bound, and has sanctified it with His 
own blood, and still there is not one single nation 
on earth which would have enacted into its law-book 
that eternal decree. Men believe in the mysteries 
of religion, according to the creed of their clmrch ; 
they go to church, and they pray and give alms to 
the poor, and drop the balm of consolation into the 
wounds of the afflicted, and believe they do all that 
the Lord commanded to do, and believe they are 
Christians. 'No ! Some few may be, but their na- 
tion is not — their country is not ; the era of Chris- 
tianity has yet to come, and wdien it comes, then, 
only then, will be the future of nations sure. Far 
be it from me to misapprehend the immense benefit 
which Christian religion, such as it already is, has 
operated in mankind's history. It has influenced 
the private character of men, and the social condi- 
tion of millions ; it was the nurse of a new civiliza- 
tion, and softening the manners and morals of men, 
its influence has been felt even in the worst quarter 
of history — in war. The continual massacres of 
the Greek and Roman kings and chiefs, and the ex- 
termination of nations by them — the all-devastating 
warfare of the Timurs and Genms Khans — are in 

\ 



T 11 !•: F U T U R K <) F N A T I O N S . 29 

o-eiUM-al not more to be met with; only my own 
dear futlicrland was doomed to experience once 
more tlie cruelties of the Tinnirs and Gengis Khans 
out of the saerileL>ions liands of the dynasty of Aus- 
tria, wliich cahnuniates Christianity by calling itself 
Oliristian. But though that beneficial influence of 
Christianity we have cheerfully to acknowledge, 
yet it is still not to be disputed that the laAV of 
Christ does yet nowhere rule, the Christian world. 
Montesquieu liimsiolf, whom nobody could charge 
to be partial for republics, avows that^iespotism is 
incompatible witli the Christian religion, because 
the Christian religion commands meekness, and 
despotism claims arbitrary power to the whims and 
])assions of a frail mortal ; and still it is more than 
1,500 years since the Christian religion became 
domina;it, and through that long period despotism 
has been pre-eminently dominant ; you can scarcely 
show one single truly democratic republic of any 
])Ower which had subsisted but for a hundred years, 
exercisirig any influence upon the condition of tlie 
world. Constantinc, raising the Christian religion 
to Kome's imperial throne, did not restore the Eo- 
mans to their primitive virtues. Constantinople 
became the sewer of vice ; Christian worship did 
not change the despotic habits of Kin.gs. Tlie 
Tituses, the Trajans, the Antonines, appeared sel- 
dom on Christian thrones; on the contrary, man- 
kind has seen, in the name of religion, lighted 
the piles of persecution, and the blazing torches 



7 



•is 



30 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS.' 

of intolerance ; the earth overspread with corpses 
of the million victims of fanaticism ; the fields wa- 
tered with blood ; the cities wrapped in flames, and 
empires ravaged with unrelenting rage. Why ? Is 
it Christian religion which caused these deplorable 
facts, branding the brow of partly degraded, partly 
outraged Humanity ? 'No. It was precisely the 
contrary ; the fact that the religion of Christ never 
yet was practically taken for an all overruling law, 
the obedience to which, outweighing every other 
consideration, would have directed the policy of 
nations — that fact is the source of evil, whence the 
oj)pression of millions has overflowed the earth, and 
which makes the future of the proudest, of the 
freest nation, to be like a house built upon sand. 

Every religion has two parts. One is the dog- 
matical, the part of worship ; the other is the moral 
part. 

The first, the dogmatic j)art, belonging to those 
mysterious regions which the arm of human under- 
standing cannot reach, because they belong to the 
dominion of belief, and that begins where the do- 
minion of knowledge ends — that part of religion, 
therefore, the dogmatic one, should be left to every 
man to settle between God and his own conscience. 
It is a sacred field, whereon worldly power never 
should dare to trespass, because there it has no 
power to enforce its will. Force can murder ; it 
can make liars and hypocrites, but no violence on 
earth can force a man to believe what he does not 



T II F. F U TV U 10 OF N A T I O N S , 31 

believe. Yet the other part of religion, the moral 
part, is quite different. That teaches duties toward 
ourselves and toward our fellow-men. It can be, 
therefore, not indifferent to the human family : it 
can be not indifferent to whatever community, if 
those duties be fulfilled or not, and no nation can, 
with full right, claim the title of a Christian nation, 
no government the title of a Christian government, 
which is not founded upon the basis of Christian 
morality, and which takes it not for an all overrul- 
ing law to fulfill the moral duties ordered by the reli- 
gion of Christ toward men and nations, who are but 
the community of men, and toward mankind, which 
is the community of nations. IN^ow, look to those 
dread pages of history, stained with the blood of 
millions, spilt under the blasphemous pretext of re- 
ligion ; was it the intent to vindicate the riglits, and 
enforce the duties of Christian morality, wdiich 
raised the hand of nation against nation, of govern- 
ment against government ? No : it was the fanati- 
cism of creed, and the fury of dogmatism. Nations 
and governments rose to propagate their manner to 
w^orship God, and their own mode to believe the 
inscrutable mysteries of eternity ; but nobody has 
yet raised a finger to j^unish the sacrilegious viola- 
tion of the moral laws of Christ, nobody ever stirred 
to claim the fulfillment of the duties of Christian 
morality toward nations. There is much speaking 
about the separation of Church and State, and yet, 
on close examination, we shall see that there was, 



32 THE FUTURE OFNATIONS. 

and there is, scarcely one single government entirely 
free from the direct or indirect influence of one or 
other religions denominations ; scarcely one which 
wonld not at least bear> a predilection, if not coun- 
tenance with favor, one or another creed — hut creed^ 
and always creed. Tlie mysteries of dogmatism, 
and the manners of worship, enter into these con- 
siderations ; they enter even into the politics, and 
turn the scales of hatred and afl"ection ; hut certainly 
there is not one single nation, not one single gov- 
ernment, the policy of which would ever have been 
regulated by that- law of morality which our Saviour 
has promulgated as the eternal law of God, which 
shall be obeyed in all the relations of men to men. 
But you say, of the direct or indirect amalgamation 
of Church and State, proved to be dangerous to 
nations in. Christian and for Christian times, because 
it affected the individual rights of men, and among 
them, the dearest of all, the liberty of conscience 
and the freedom of thought. Well, of this danger, 
at least, the future of your country is free ; because 
here, at least, in this, your happy land, religious 
liberty exists. Your institutions left no power to 
your government to interfere with the religion of 
your citizens. Here every man is free to woi'ship_ 
God as he chooses to do. 

And that is true, and it is a great glory of your 
country that it is true. It is a fact which entitles 
to the hope that your nation will revive the law of 
Christ, even on earth. However, the guarantee 



% 

THE FUTURE O^F N A T I O N S . 33 

wliicli vour Constitution iiffords to religious liberty 
is but ^ a negative part of a Christian government. 
There are, besides that, positive duties to be fulfilled, 
lie Avho does no violence to'the conscience of man, 
has but the negative merit of a man doing no 
wrong ; but as he who does not murder, does not 
steal, and does not covet what his neighbor's is, but 
by not stealing, not murdering, not coveting what 
our neighbor's is, we did yet no positive good ; a 
man who'-does not murder has not yet occasion to 
the title of virtuous man. And here is precisely 
the infinite merit of the Christian reli<2:ion. While 
Moses, in the name of the Almighty God, ordered 
but negative degrees toward fellow-men, the Chris- 
tian religion commands positive virtue. Its divine 
injunctions are not performed by not doing wrong ; 
it desires us to do good. The doctrine of Jesus 
Christ is sublime in its majestic simplicity. "Thou 
shalt love God above all, and love thy neighbor as 
thou lovest thyself" 

This sublime doctrine is the religion of love. It 
is the religion of charity. "Tliougli 1 speak with 
the tongues of angels, and have not charity, I am 
become as sounding brass and tinkling cymbals. 
Tliough I have the gift of prophesy, and understand 
all mysteries and all knowledge, and have all faith, 
so that I could remove mountains, and have not 
charity, I am nothing. And tliough I bestow all 
my goods to feed the poor, and give my body to be 
burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me noth- 



34: THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

ing." Thus speaks tlie Lord, and thus speaking He 
gives the law, " Do unto others as thou desirest 
others to do unto thee." JSTow in the name of Him 
who gave this law to humanity, to build up the 
eternal bliss and temporal happiness of mankind, 
in the name of that Eternal Legislator, I ask, is in 
that charity^ in that fundamental law of Christianity, 
any limit of distinction drawn in man in his per- 
sonal, and man in his national capacity ? Is it but 
a law for a man where he is alone, and can do but 
little good ? Is it no law more where tw^o are to- 
gether, and can do no more good ? No law more 
when millions are together ? Am I in my personal 
adversities ; is my aged mother in her helpless des- 
olation ; are my homeless sisters whom you feed 
to-day, that they may work to-morrow ; are we 
your neighbors, unto whom you do as you would 
others in a similar position do unto yourself? And 
is every one of my down-trodden people a neigh- 
bor to every one of you % but all my people col- 
lectively, is it not a neighbor to you ? And is my 
nation not a neighbor to your nation ? Is my down- 
trodden land not a neighbor to your down-trodden 
land % Oh ! my God, men speak of the Christian 
religion and style themselves Christians, and yet 
make a distinction between virtue in private life 
and virtue in public life ; as if the divine law of 
Charity would have been given only for certain 
small relations, and not for all the relations between 
men and men. 



'*■ THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 35 

''Tlicre he is iig-ain, witli IiIh eternal complaints 
about his country's wrongs;" nuiy perhaps some- 
body remark: "This is an assembly of charity, as- 
sembled to ease his private' woes of family ; and 
there he is again speaking of his country's wrongs, 
and alluding to our foreign policy, about which he 
knows our views to be divided." Thus I may be 
charged. 

My "private family woes!" But all my woes 
and all tlio woes of my family, are concentrated in 
the unwarrantable oppression of my fatherland. 
\ «)u are an assembly of charity, it is true, and the 
Almighty may requite you for it ; but being a char- 
itable assembly, can you blame me that the filial 
and fraternal devotion of my heart, in taking with 
gratitude the balm of consolation which your char- 
ity pours into the bleeding wounds of my famil}^, 
looks around to heal those wounds, the torturing 
pains of wdiicli you ease, but which cannot be cured 
but by justice and cliarity done to my fotherland. 
Shall this sad heart of mine be contented by leav- 
ing to my homeless motlier and sisters the means 
to have their bread l)y lionest labor, their daily 
bread salted witli the bitter tears of exile ; and 
shall I not care to leave them the hope that their 
misfortune will have an end; that they will see 
again their bel<)ved home; that they will see it in- 
dependent and free, and live where their fathers 
lived, and sleep the tranquil sleep of death, in tliat 
soil with wliicli the ashes of their fathers mingle? 



# 



36 THE FUTUEE OF NATIONS. 

Shall I not care to give tlie consolation to my aged 
mother, that when her soon departing soul, crown- 
ed with the garland of martyrdom, looks down 
from the home of the blessed, the nnited joy of the 
heavens will thrill through her immortal spirit, 
seeing her dear, dear Hungary free ? Your views 
are divided on the subject, it may be; but can 
your views be divided upon the subject that it is 
the command of God to love your neighbors as you 
love yourselves ? That it is the duty of Christians, 
that it is the fundamental principle of the Christian 
religion, to do unto others as you desire others to 
do unto you? And if there is, if there can be no 
difference of opinion in regard to the principle ; if 
no one in this vast assembly — whatever be the plat- 
form of his party — ever would disclaim this prin- 
ciple, will any one blame me that in the name of 
Christ I am bold to claim the application of that 
principle ? I should not speak of politics ! Well, 
I have spoken of Christianity. Your politics either 
agree with the Law of Christ, or they do not agree 
with it. If they don't agree, then your politics are 
not Christian ; and if they agree, then I cause no 
division among you. 

And I shall not speak of my people's wrongs ! 
Oh ! my people — thou heart of my heart, thou life 
of my life — to thee are bent the thoughts of my 
mind, and they will remain bent to thee, though all 
the world may frown. To thee are pledged all the 
affections of my heart, and they will be pledged to 



T H E F V T U U li: OF N A T I O N S . 37 

thee as long as one drop of blood throbs within this 
heart. Thine are the cares of my waking liours ; 
thine are the dreams of my restless sleep. Shall I 
foro-et thee, but for' a moment! Never! Never! 
Cursed be the moment, and cursed be I in that mo- 
ment, in which thou wouldst be forgotten by me ! 

Thou art oppressed, Q.my fatherland! because 
the principles of Christianity have not been exe- 
cuted in practice ; because the duties of Christi- 
anity have not been fulfilled ; because the precepts 
of Christianity have not been obeyed ; because the 
law of Christianity did not control the policy of 
nations ; because there are many impious govern- 
ments to offend the law of Christ, but there was 
none to do the duties commanded by Christ. 

Tliou art fallen, O my country, because Christi- 
anity has yet to come ; but it is not yet come — no- 
where ! Xowhere on earth ! And with the sharp 
eye of misfortune piercing the dark vail of the fu- 
ture, and with the tongue .of Cassandria relating 
what I see, I cry it out to high IIeav6n, and shout 
it out to the Earth — " Nations, proud of your mo- 
mentary power ; proud of your freedom ; proud of 
your prosperity — your power is vain, your freedom 
is vain, your industry, yoiir wealth, your prosperity 
are vain; all these will not save you from sharing 
the mournful fate of those old nations, not less 
powerful then you, not less free, not less prosper- 
ous than you — and still fallen, as you yourself will 
fjill — all vanished as you will vanish, like a bub- 

4 



^ 



38 THE FUTUKE OF NATIONS. 

ble thrown up from the deep ! There is only the 
law of Christ, there are only the duties of Chris- 
tianity, which can secure your future, by securing 
at the same time humanity. 

Duties must be fulfilled, else they are an idle 
word. And who would dispute that there is a pos- 
itive duty in that law, " Love thy neighbor as thou 
lovest thyself. Do unto others as thou wouldst 
that others do unto thee." JSTow, if there are duties 
in that law comprised, who shall execute them, if 
free and powerful nations do not execute them? 
'No government can meddle with the private rela- 
tions of its millions of citizens so much as to enforce 
the positive virtue of Christian charity, in the 
thousand-fold complications of private life. That 
will be impossible ; and our Saviour did not teach 
impossibilities. By commanding charity toward 
fellow-men in human relations. He commanded it 
also to governments- It is in their laws toward 
their own citizens ; it is in their policy toward other 
nations, that governments and nations can fulfill 
those duties of Christianity ; and what they can, 
that they should. How could governments ho]3e 
to see their own citizens and other nations observ- 
ing toward them the positive duties of Christian 
morality, when they themselves do not observe 
them against others ; when oj)pressed nations, the 
victims, not of their own faults, but of the grossest 
violation of the law of Christ, look in vain around 
to find out a nation among Christian nations, and 



T II 10 1<' U T U \l K O 1' .N A l' I o N S . 39 

a gtnci'iiineiit among Christian governments, doing 
nnto tlioni, in the lioiir of tlieir snpreme need, as 
the Saviour said tliat it is duty to do unto others in 
every case ? 

Yes, gentlemen, a^s hjng as the principles of 
Christian morality are not carried up into the inter- 
national rcUitions — as long as the fragile wisdom 
of political exigencies overrules the doctrines of 
Cln-ist, there is no freedom on eartli firm, and the 
future of no nation sure. But let a powerful nation 
like yours raise Christian morality into its public 
conduct, that nation will have a future against 
which the very gates of hell itself will never pre- 
vail. The morality of its policy will react upon the 
morality of its individuals, and preserve it from do- 
mestic vice, which, without that prop, ever yet l';'.s 
attended too mucli pi'osperity, and ever yet was 
followed by a dreadful fall. The morality of its 
j)olicy will support justice and freedom on earth, 
and thus augmenting the mimber of free nations, 
all acting upon the same principle, its very future 
will be placed under the guarantee of them all, and 
preserve it from foreign danger — which is better to 
prevent than to repel. And its future wilfbe placed 
under the guarantee of the Almighty himself, who, 
true to Ilis eternal decrees, proved through the 
downfall of so many mighty nations, that lie al- 
ways punished the fathers in the coming genera- 
ti"!i- ; but alike bountiful as just, will not and can- 
j lot forsake those whom lie gave power to carry 



40 THE FUTURE OF NATIONS. 

out His laws on earth, and who Avillingly answered 
His divine call. Power in itself never yet was 
sure. It is right which makes power firm ; and it 
is community which makes right secure. The task 
of Petek's apostolate is accomplished — the Churches 
are founded in the Christian world. The task of 
Paul's apostolate is accomplished — the abuses of 
fanaticism and intolerance are redressed. But the 
task of him whom the Saviour most loved, is not 
yet accomplished. The gos^^el of charity rules not 
yet the Christian world ; and without charity, 
Christianity, you know, is " but sounding brass 
and a tinkling cymbal." 

Oh ! Charity, thou fairest gift of Heaven ! thou 
family link between nations ; thou rock of their 
security ; thou deliverer of the oppressed ; when 
comes thy realm ? Where is the man whom the 
Lord has chosen to establish thy realm ? Who is 
the man whom the Lord has chosen to realize the 
religion, the tenets of which the most beloved dis- 
ciple of the Saviour has recorded from his divine 
lips ? who is the man to reform, not Christian 
creeds, but Christian morality ? Man ! 'No ; that 
is no task for a man, but for a nation. Man may 
teach a doctrine ; but that doctrine of Charity is 
taught, and taught with such sublime simplicity, 
that no sectarist yet has. disputed its truth. His- 
torians have been quarreling about mysteries, 
and lost empires through their disjjutes. The 
Greeks were controversially disputing whether the 



TIIK FITTUKE OF NATIONS. 41 

Holy Glii^st proceeds iroiii the Father alone, or 
from the Father and Son ; and Mahomet hattered 
the walls of Byzantiium, they heard it not ; he 
wrested the cross from Santa Sophia ; they saw it 
not, till the cimeter of the Turk stopped the rage of 
quarrel with the blow of death. In other quarters 
they went on disputing and deciding with mutual 
anathemas the question of transfiguration and many 
other mysteries, which, being mysteries, constitute 
the private dominion of belief; but the doctrine of 
charity none of them disputes ; there they all agree ; 
nay, in the idle times of scholastical subtility, they 
have been quarreling about the most extravagant 
fancies of a scorched imagination. Mighty folios 
have been written about the problem, how many 
angels could dance upon the top of a needle with- 
out toucMng each other? The folly of subtility 
went so far as to profane the sacred name of God, 
by disputing if He, being omnipotent, has the pow- 
er to sin? If, in the holy wafer, He be present 
dressed or undressed? If the Saviour would have 
chosen the incarnation in the shape of a gourd, 
instead of a man, how would he have preached, 
how acted miracles, and how had been crucified ? 
And when they went to the theme of investigating 
if it was a wliip or a lash with wliich the angels 
have whipped St. Jerome for trying to imitate in 
his ^\Titillgs the pagan C-icero, it was but after cen- 
turies that Abbot Cartant dared to write that if St. 
Jerome was whipped at all, he was whipped for 



42 THE FUTUEE OF NATIONS. 

having hadly imitated Cicero. Still, the doctrine 
of Christian charity is so sublime in its simplicity, 
that not even the subtility of scholasticism dared 
ever to profane it by any controversy, and still that 
sublime doctrine is not executed, and the religion 
of charity not realized yet. The task of this glori- 
ous progress is only to be done by a free and pow- 
erful nation, because it is a task of action, and not 
of teaching. Individual man can but execute it in 
the narrow compass of the small relations of private 
life ; it is only the power of a nation which can raise 
it to become a ruling law on earth ; and before this 
is done, the triumph of Christianity is not arrived — 
and without that triumph, the freedom and pros- 
perity even of the mightiest nation is not for a mo- 
ment safe from internal decay, or from foreign vio- 
lence. 

Which is the nation to achieve that triumph of 
Christianity by protecting justice out of charity ? 
Which shall do it, if not yours ? Whom the Lord 
has blessed above all, from whom He much ex- 
pects, because He has given her much. 

Ye Ministers of the Gospel, who devote your lives 
to expound the eternal truths of the book of life, 
remember my humble words, and remind those 
who, with pious hearts, listen to your sacred words, 
that half virtue is no virtue ,at all, and that there is 
no difference in the duties of charity between pub- 
lic and private life. 

Ye Missionaries, who devote your lives to tho 



T II K F U T U R K u F x\ A 1' I O N S . 43 

l)ro|)agati(»ii of (Jliri.stiaiiil v, before you cmljurk foi 
the dangers o\' far, inhospitable shores, remind 
those whom you leave, that the example of a nation 
exercising right jind justice on earth by charity, 
M-ouUl be the mightiest propagandism of Christian 
religion. 

Ye Patriots, loving your country's future, and 
anxious about her security, remember the admon- 
itions of history— remember that the freedom, tlie 
power, and the prosperity in wliich your country 
glories, is no new apparition on earth ; others also 
had it, and yet they are gone. Tlie prudence with 
which your forefathers have founded this common- 
wealth, the courage with which you develop it, 
other nations also have shown, and still they arq 
gone. 

And ye ladies; ye fairest incarnation of the 
spirit of love, wliich vivifies the universe, remem- 
ber my words. Tlie heart of man is given into 
your tender hands. You mold it in its infancy. 
You imprint the lasting mark of character upon 
man's ])row. You ennoble his youth ; you soften 
the harshness of his manhood ; you are the guard- 
ian angels of his hoary age. All your vocation is 
love, and your life is charity. The religion of char- 
ity wants your apostolate, and requires your aid. 
It is to you I appeal, and leave the sublime topic 
of my humble reflections to the meditation of your 
Christian hearts. 



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44 THE F U T U E E OF NATIONS. 

And thus, my task of to-day is done. Man sliall 
earn tlie means of life by the sweat of his brow. 
Thns shall my family. Yonr charity of to-day has 
opened the way to it. The school which my m-other, 
if God spares her life, will superintend, and in 
which two of my sisters will teach, and the hum- 
ble farm which my third sister and her family shall 
work, will be the gift of your charity to-day. 

A stony weight of cares is removed from my 
breast. Oh ! be blessed for it, be thanked for it, in 
the name of them all wdio have lost every thing, but 
not their trust to God, and not the benefit of being 
able to work. My country will forgive me that I 
have taken from her the time of one day's work — 
to give bread to my aged mother and to my home- 
less sisters, the poor victims of unrelenting tyranny. 
Returning to Europe, I may find my own little chil- 
dren in a condition that again the father will have 
to take the spade or the pen into his hand to give 
them bread. 

And my fatherland w^ill again forgive me, that 
that time is taken from her. That is all what I take 
from her ; nothing else of what is given, or what 
belongs to her. And the day's work which I take 
from my country, I will restore it by a night's labor. 
To-day, the son and the brother has done his task ; 
you have requited his labor by a generous charity ; 
the son and brother thanks you for it, and the patriot, 
to resume his task, bids you a hearty, warm, fare- 
well. 



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